My Fury, My Hatred, My Reason
by Jalicyn-chan
Summary: Bakura's yami speaks out. Wonder if anyone will listen. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Yuugiou.**

**Warnings: Blood. Spoilers. Angst. Mind-benders. Implied Yaoi. Cursing.**

**Author's Notes: I find it strange that i'm doing this. Not too long ago, I thought of Bakura and his yami a flat character, the Sennen Ring a golden piece of jewelry with magick. **

**I never thought of why Bakhura hated the Pharoah, why he had the power, why he was trapped in the Ring, why he ignored his host. It seemed distant, not important. **

**I used to be completely loyal to the Pharoah, I used to not understand balance or why the Items were created, or how they were created, I didn't think of what the spirit and host were to each other. **

**I thought the Pharoah perfect, I was angry at the Doom Warriors for calling him dark, I was unthinkingly ignorant to all that was right there in front of me.**

**Funny how a simple search on the Internet with change your perspective of things.**

**My Fury, My Hatred, My Reason**

They don't know me.

They say they don't understand, how can I be so cruel to my host, the one keeping me alive?

The bastards don't understand that I don't want to be alive.

What keeps me here? Why do I live if I don't wish it?

It's all _his _fault.

If it weren't for _him_, I would be dead, with the gods.

Didn't work that way, ne?

Why not just commit suicide?

I've thought of it.

It's the coward's way out.

If you can't stand what life throws at you, you're weak.

I can't afford weakness.

I just can't.

No one, not even my host, my hikari, has been in my soul room. I know what anyone would find there.

Can you guess?

A child.

One would think my host would be the child.

No.

He's happy, completely avoiding my very existence.

Just like everyone else.

Why does it hurt so much?

But who would want to be near a filthy, unworthy tomb robber?

_He _made it very clear.

_Nobody cares._

Those words haunt me. If not the blaming spirits of my family, my village, of Kuru Eruna, then that one simple little phrase.

_Nobody cares._

That's right.

Nobody cares.

Is that why nobody missed Kuru Eruna after it was burned down? After the corpses of all I had known, had based my life around, the people who had actually gave a _damn_ about me, were taken away to be melted with enchanted gold?

You didn't know? That's what the Items are made of. Blood, gold, and fire.

Fire to temper, fire to heat. Burning, searing heat that travels up one's flesh and eats at it, devouring it. Just like the shadows of my confining Ring.

Who cares for a Town of Thieves, hm?

Nobody.

_Nobody cares._

The child in my soul room cries. Never stops, the tears just keep coming. Tracing hot trails down his dirty face as he watches his mother, father, _the little sister he had sworn to protect with his fucking, worthless life,_ die in agony.

What's the point anymore?

It seems as if...

I don't know.

The child screams. Screams in Egyptian, calling for his mother, for the little sister, for his friends. For his home.

All the while, he is surrounded by flames and the screams that haunt him more than the ones in the Shadow Realm ever will.

It never stops.

It never, fucking, stops.

Make it stop.

Please?

I want it to stop.

I thought they had lived for a while after their deaths.

I heard my mother calling, telling me to go to the next town.

When I got there, I found it all to be a lie.

I think that was my first step to insanity.

Why do you think I became King of Thieves?

To prove I was more than a petty thief. To prove I was worthy. To prove my existence, god-dammit!

It didn't work.

He just set me into this fucking Ring, allowing me torment.

Did he understand how much that had ruined me?

I had defaced his father's tomb, dragged the corpse to him. Now that wouldn't have been a big of deal as it was back then. That was treason against the gods themselves; if a corpse was disturbed, the soul could not move on.

I had a kind of sick enjoyment of that.

I guess it all ended with waking up in this world, that I know nothing about, having to rely on my host's memories...

...and not having him accept me, comfort me, help me...

...love me...

I have learned however; love is a weakness, one I cannot tolerate.

_Love me, Ryou. Please, love me..._

**xxx**

**Hm. Abrupt ending, too long author's notes, and all around crap.**

**Review Please.**

**Jalicyn-chan**


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